


Home Early

by camerasparring



Category: IT (Movies - Muschietti), IT - Stephen King
Genre: Blow Jobs, Domestic Fluff, Established Relationship, Fix-It of Sorts, Fluff, Kissing, M/M, Post-IT Chapter Two (2019)
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-04-15
Updated: 2020-04-15
Packaged: 2021-03-02 05:40:24
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 789
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23670037
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/camerasparring/pseuds/camerasparring
Summary: Richie booked this tour before they got together officially, leaving them with three whole weeks together before Richie was jetting around the country for months at a time. When he was finally at the tail-end, Steve re-worked and re-booked a flight so Richie could get home a whole day early.
Relationships: Eddie Kaspbrak/Richie Tozier
Comments: 3
Kudos: 120





	Home Early

Richie closes the door gently, trying at silently, but the damn thing always clicks.

He opens his mouth to call out for Eddie when he catches glimpse of a foot peeking out from the top of the sofa. 

Eddie never sleeps on the sofa, what the fuck is he-

“Holy _shit_ ,” he whispers to himself, then slams a hand over his mouth. He can’t fucking ruin this moment. Once in a lifetime, baby, and Eddie is going to be _so_ surprised.

Richie booked this tour before they got together officially, leaving them with three whole weeks together before Richie was jetting around the country for months at a time. When he was finally at the tail-end, Steve re-worked and re-booked a flight so Richie could get home a whole day early. It happened so quickly that Richie barely had time to let Eddie know before he was hopping on a plane, and with the time difference and Eddie’s penchant for over-worrying, Richie eventually decided to deliberately keep it from him. 

Luckily, Eddie hadn’t texted asking his whereabouts in a good while. So Richie didn’t _technically_ lie. That’s his story and he’s sticking to it. 

And now he’s got a whole-ass eyeful of Eddie’s “whirlwind cleaning” outfit, which he devastatingly didn’t find out about until _after_ he left. Short, grey sweat-shorts (Richie didn’t know those were a thing but he’s getting himself a pair to hopefully drive Eddie this crazy, too), a white tank top and… nothing else. It’s practically sinful. Eddie’s splayed out on the couch, and most of it is riding up in all of Richie’s favorite places, like the curve of his shoulders that tuck up under into his arms and the perky line under his ass and over the expanse of his back where Eddie’s started to freckle lightly from the California sun. 

Richie puts his bag down gingerly, appreciating the view from above for a full minute before realizing how creepy he’s being and sitting down at the end of the couch. 

Eddie’s eyes pop open immediately, nothing but panic and confusion, and Richie almost bails, but then Eddie’s mouth creases _hard_ into a smile and Richie’s heart fucking flutters in his chest.

They haven’t seen each other (other than through their phones) in ninety-three days. Richie knows because he kept fucking count.

“ _Richie_ , what- how did you-”

“Papa Steve let me out early so I thought I’d make my way home as soon as humanly possible,” Richie tells him, noting how Eddie’s face doesn’t even flinch when he calls Steve _papa_ , so he really must be happy to see him.

Richie means to say more, but Eddie’s just grinning ear to ear, and then lunging forward to ball a fist into the front of Richie’s shirt and _then_ he’s being kissed within an inch of his life and he silently sends up another thank you to Papa Steve for making all his boyfriend dreams come true. That man is always watching out for him.

And this man, this _Eddie_ , the other man who takes care of him, and who he takes care of in turn, is breathing happy and warm into his mouth, sleepy and rumpled, lines on his face from the stitched pillow he brought from New York, and Richie wants to wrestle him back down onto the couch and fall back asleep, take Eddie and drift into a dream they both never have to leave, but instead he kisses back, pressing thumbs into the V of Eddie’s hips, and Eddie hops into his lap.

“I missed you so fucking much,” Eddie gasps, and Richie’s mind almost blows from sheer happiness and light. He thought maybe he was imagining all this after so many months on the road, but this is as good as he remembers, almost as good as the first time they kissed, hard and jagged, full of unsaid words and decades of built up pain that exploded like fireworks between them. 

Richie wants to tell Eddie he’s everything, that he smells and looks amazing, that he feels like the first warmth of spring and the scent of rain all wrapped up into one compact package of a man, but instead he pushes Eddie back to where he was lying on the couch and slips his sleep shorts off in one go.

“Gonna show you how much I missed _you_ ,” Richie says, and then he’s sucking Eddie down without even thinking. Eddie’s eyes are hot and hungry on him, his hands in Richie’s hair, his thighs pressing up to hold around him, and he chants Richie’s name like a prayer, and all Richie can think is _thank you, thank you, I missed you too, thank you, I love you so much_. 


End file.
